


starting up

by smallredboy



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, First Meetings, M/M, Mentions of Taylor Swift, Music, Pre-Infarction (House M.D.)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 22:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18214211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallredboy/pseuds/smallredboy
Summary: House's one door down neighbor keeps blasting Taylor Swift.





	starting up

**Author's Note:**

> for allbingo's meet ugly fest.
> 
> enjoy!

House can’t fucking sleep.

The apartment beneath his own has been going on at it for the whole fucking day. If he has to listen to that blonde sing about a very sad breakup one more time he’ll snap. He buries his face on his pillow as the song drones on and on and he just wants to rest.

There’s silence for a few seconds. He holds his breath.

_ I remember when we broke up, the first time— _

“Goddammit!” he yells to nobody, standing up. He sighs and fixes his clothes, putting on some pants haphazardly before heading downstairs and knocking furiously on the door to this guy’s apartment. After a minute or two of Taylor goddamn Swift going on, the door is open.

He’s met with a man maybe two inches shorter than him, messy brown hair and nice cheekbones, pretty eyes. He looks exhausted, and a little like he’s been crying. “Yes?”   
  
“I live in the apartment above yours,” House says, a bit of emphasis on the last two words, “Will you please stop playing Taylor Swift on repeat? There are other ways to deal with your ugly break-up with the girl you promised to love forever and ever. Or  _ whatever _ .”   


The man blinks once, twice. “It’s a divorce, actually.”

“Well, my point still stands.” He sighs and rubs his hand all over his face. “Turn the fucking music off. I want to  _ sleep _ .”   


He stares at him, and House stares back. He’s pretty, House notes, and he wonders why he’s getting divorced. It’s none of his business, as this guy is just his one door down neighbor, but it doesn’t stop him from wanting to ask. Maybe it’s just attraction— the need to know more about someone doesn’t usually come to him like this.

“I will,” he says. “I apologize for the trouble.”   
  
House blinks. “That easy?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
He steps into the man’s apartment, gaining a surprised noise from him as he pushes him away, and then he sees the medical texts all over the place. The closest one is about lung cancer.

“Oncologist?” he asks, tilting his head. 

“Just got out of med school,” he provides. fiddling with his hands.

“Hmm.” He goes inside some more. 

The man stands there, the door still open, a hand propped on his hip. A new theory forms next to someone cheated— maybe he’s gay. “Do you want to stay or something?”   


“No, just looking around.”   
  
“For what?”   
  
He shrugs. “Nothing special.”   
  
“You’re going to look through my stuff before asking for my name?”   
  
“Yes.”   
  
He finally closes the door. “What’s  _ your  _ name?”   
  
“Dr. Gregory House. Call me House.”   
  
“I’m Dr. James Wilson.” There’s an inexplicable smile tugging at the corners of Wilson’s lips— inexplicable because House knows he’s not a kind person to be around, a positive force in anyone’s life. “Let’s do something worthwhile with your night, no?”   
  
House isn’t too sure if that’s a sexual proposition, but even if it’s  _ not  _ he’ll try and stay the night.


End file.
